


Somebody Like You

by ValkyriaRising



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Duelling, F/M, Fenris doesn't worry about much but boy does he worry about Hawke, Fluff and Smut, Hawke is having none of the Arishok's shit, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Porn With Plot, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, healer Hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-16 22:30:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19327399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyriaRising/pseuds/ValkyriaRising
Summary: Hawke goes toe to toe with the Arishok at Fenris’s suggestion. The elf realizes he may have made a grave mistake in bringing it up at all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The more I play DA2 the more I fall in love with it and the stupid, broody elf that managed to capture my heart. 
> 
> Inspired by the song [Somebody Like You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IdJgdfrCgBg) by DVBBS.
> 
> Warnings: blood, Hawke and the Arishok beating each other up, future smut in chapter 2 -Valk

Though he was loathe to admit it, Fenris trusted Hawke. 

Althea was a mage and while under any other circumstances that simple fact would set the elf on edge, he had found that her presence was gentle and her magic was fierce, but in a way that whenever he felt her mana flowing at his back, it almost  _ comforted  _ him—knowing she was on his side. Her healing prowess was unmatched by even Anders—and she didn’t have a spirit of Justice inhabiting her body, either. 

In knowing this, however, Fenris would soon find he would regret suggesting that she—sweet, gentle, yet talented Hawke—should fight to the death with one of the Qunari’s best warriors. Looking down at her now, watching as she removed her armor down to her breast band, trousers and boots in order to stand on even ground with the bare chested Arishok, there was a fleeting moment where the elf really wondered if Isabela was truly worth this. One look at the nobles around him and a sideways glance at Varric and Anders, who stood apprehensively beside him, reminded the warrior that this wasn’t  _ just  _ about Isabela, but it was certainly easier to pretend it was. 

Althea twirled her staff in her hand, the staff-blade scraping against the stone floor as she settled into a predatory stance across the room from the Arishok, who gave both his sword and axe a flourish before doing the same. Fenris looked to Hawke one final time and in that moment he was almost content in just watching her chest rise and fall, grateful she was breathing.  _ But for how long _ —a fleeting thought that made his heart skip a beat. 

She met his gaze evenly from across the room, a small smirk decorating her pink lips, the determination in her countenance reaching her blue-gray eyes. The elf forced a smile; he meant for it to be reassuring, but Varric and Anders were holding their breaths beside him and he hoped Hawke couldn’t tell how worried they were for her. Something about the way she was standing, though—the way her gaze flickered away from his to rest on the Qunari opposite her, convinced Fenris in the few moments before the dual began that she would make it out alive. He realized what he was seeing inside her was unlike anything he’d ever seen in her before—a fierce protectiveness of her friends and their city. 

They charged at each other and Fenris felt his entire world stop. 

Althea’s offensive magic always burned hot at his back on the battlefield, but the Arishok seemed unphased by the first fireball she threw at him, lunging at her with unbridled aggression like she had never seen. She barely dove out of the way in time, casting down a lightning strike as she rolled away, finding that her electricity seemed to roll off of him just as easily as the fire she had used before. Fenris watched as uncertainty and regret filtered into her movements and she stumbled back. 

Fenris had to keep himself from reaching out to her. The elf hadn’t meant to fall in love with her—a  _ mage  _ of all people. Hawke had been good to him—far better than he deserved and the night he’d laid her down for the first time played on repeat in his head, but it was always overshadowed by the memories that had blossomed as a result.  He wanted that—wanted  _ her  _ again, but he was afraid what else her touch might dredge up. She had understood about the markings—about his limits, but the magic at her fingertips tracing the lyrium in his veins had been a sensation like no other and he craved it despite the resurfacing of memories long forgotten. He hadn’t gotten a chance to apologize yet—another thing to regret. 

They all flinched when the Arishok’s axe just barely missed Hawke’s head, slicing through the air just above her long, braided hair. He thrust his sword at her abdomen moments later and she was quick to produce a large icicle from the ground just in front of her, the ice shattering and nullifying the blow just in time for her to step away and put distance between them. She blocked his next swing with her staff, pushing back against his blow despite being far smaller than the hulking mass of muscle that made up the intimidating Qunari. 

Ultimately, however, he proved much stronger than her, knocking her staff out of her hand and throwing her to the ground. Althea quickly threw a barrier over herself, rolling to her feet and grabbing her staff from the cold ground before he could cut her in half, her breathing ragged. 

“Come on Hawke—it can’t end like this,” Varric whispered, his brow furrowed and his grip on Bianca tight. Anders rested an uneasy hand on the dwarf’s shoulder, shooting Fenris a deathly glare. 

“I don’t think I need to tell you-,” but Fenris interrupted the mage, his jaw clenching. 

“-that I’ll be to blame if she dies—I’m well aware,” the elf barked back, turning his gaze back to the battle below him. He could still feel Anders’ glare burning into the back of his head, but right now, them fighting wasn’t what Hawke needed.

The elf’s heart was beating fast and he felt almost lightheaded when it skipped a beat moments later, watching as Hawke finally managed to hit the Arishok with Winter’s Grasp, slowing his steps as he fought the frost on his limbs. She followed up quickly with Stonefist—though the mage chose to make it far more personal by surrounding her own fist with mana-infused stones, throwing a powerful punch that sent the Arishok flying into the wall. 

The room erupted in cheers and Fenris couldn’t help, but smirk, pride filling his chest, his green eyes narrowing as he watched the Arishok push himself to his feet, facing Hawke once more. Althea was really a sight to behold—strands of her light blonde hair fell wildly over her face, sweat dripping down her forehead and neck, but there was a small smile gracing her soft pink lips. She was used to fighting with people at her back, but one on one, Fenris realized she seemed far more in her element than he expected. He couldn’t help, but be impressed.

Everyone’s elation was quickly wiped away when the Arishok responded with far more speed and ferocity than he had shown before. Her friends were sure the nobles were glad they were spectating instead of finding their necks on the other side of the Qunari’s axe. 

The Qunari charged at Hawke, throwing a powerful uppercut with his axe, letting out a ferocious roar that echoed off the stone walls. Fenris’s green eyes went wide as he watched her blood splatter onto the floor, the Arishok’s blade slicing up through Althea’s chest and shoulder. Her blue-gray eyes went wide in horror as pain lit up every nerve in her body and she couldn’t help the strangled cry that fell from her lips, stumbling back and reaching a hand up to the wound to confirm that she was bleeding. The color drained from her face as she felt it drip down her skin. 

Fenris expected her to fall. 

For once, he was glad he was wrong. 

Althea stood her ground and Fenris saw her jaw clench, her lips warping into an almost satisfied smirk as she forced herself to stand tall in the face of the Arishok. The elf could have sworn he saw surprise flash across the Qunari warrior’s countenance, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Althea reaffirmed her grip on her staff and for a moment, Fenris felt the lyrium in his veins buzz as she called on the Fade. She had a look in her eyes he’d never seen before—her usual gentleness had faded and had been replaced with something far more intense and primal as she used her healing magic to seal the wound, the pain making everything clearer than it had been in ages. 

He could see the rage building inside of her and she charged at the Qunari this time, meeting the swing of his sword with her staff blade. 

“You will NOT have this city!”

It came out as a growl—a sound Fenris was surprised she was even capable of making and it made him shiver, her tone rousing something deep inside of him. The Qunari’s eyes widen for a moment, his shock betraying his usually stone cold countenance. 

The mage threw the Arishok off balance, pushing his sword to the side and blocking the subsequent swing of his axe, deflecting it rather aggressively, pushing her palm into his chest and producing a powerful swell of spirit energy that swallowed the warrior, throwing him into a nearby column. He grunted—though he was hardly deterred by her magic, stalking out of the rubble towards her, his grip on his weapons tight. 

They traded blows for what felt like forever, but ultimately the altercation lasted maybe a few minutes, each of them trying to wear the other out. Althea’s mana was waning and Fenris could see the exhaustion that was seeping into her movements, her steps lethargic and her evasive maneuvers slowing. The Arishok was in no better shape, covered in frostbite and gashes from Hawke’s staff blade. 

Hawke could heal—the Qunari could not, but her mana was running out and she had used up her stock of lyrium potions. Fenris knew that she knew she had to finish this soon or she would succumb and be responsible for the Qunari taking over the city and likely killing Kirkwall’s residents and her friends. She had worked far too hard to get to where she was today and she had no family left barring her Templar brother, whom she didn’t get along with. The elf had been there when she had watched her mother die because Hawke believed she wasn’t fast enough—he knew she was far too stubborn to let that happen to her friends. 

Fenris nearly choked when the Arishok plunged his sword through her abdomen, bringing her crashing out of her head and back into reality, blood flooding her mouth and causing her to gasp as he lifted her body up triumphantly. Althea scrambled for some kind of purchase, her staff falling from her hand and bouncing on the stone floor below. She had gotten careless again—this was it. 

There was a moment of stunned silence where everyone was sure their world was about to get turned upside down, but even if everyone else in the room had given up on her, her friends called out to her. Varric and Anders couldn’t hide the fear that tainted their voices, but Fenris let his faith in her guide his encouragements. 

He hadn’t meant to sound almost indignant—reminding her that this couldn’t be her last fight; they had so much to lose and she had promised to buy them drinks once this was all over. Those three little words sat at the tip of his tongue, but he decided now wasn’t the time, instead promising to explain why he left and broke her heart. More blood drip out of her mouth as the blade cut deeper into her stomach and while he was unsure if she heard them, it wasn’t like her to give up so easily. 

Althea would later (begrudgingly) admit that he had been right. 

They had so much to lose.

This wasn’t her last fight. 

The Arishok discarded her body onto the stone floor, turning away and letting out a triumphant war cry to his fellow Qunari, raising his bloody sword. 

“This city—it belongs to the Qun.”

Fenris thought his heart was going to stop in his chest as he looked down at Hawke’s unmoving body. He had never been more relieved before than when she lifted her head blearily a few seconds later, scrambling around feebly for a moment, feeling for her staff, finding it just beside her. She wrapped her bloody hand around it, bringing her other hand up to the wound in her stomach and using the last of her magic to at least seal the wound and stop the rush of blood that had begun to pool under her. Pushing herself to her feet, spurred on by the pain and the adrenaline, she turned towards the Arishok again. The cheers of the Qunari fell as quickly as they rose and Fenris felt almost a rush of pride as he watched Hawke thrust her staff blade through the Arishok’s neck, using all of her strength to remove his head from his body, giving him the same treatment the Qunari had given Dumar. 

While everyone else’s excitement filled the chamber, Fenris felt his drain quickly as he watched her stumble forward as they rushed towards her, jumping the railing of the balcony onto the floor. She braced herself on her staff, her eyes unfocused as they approached her and Fenris rushed forward, catching her when she all, but collapsed into his arms as Anders went to work on her wounds. Althea scrambled around for something to tether her to reality, her left hand finding Varric’s hand and her other hand finding Fenris’s hand. 

“Stay with us Hawke—this will make for one hell of a story. You just need to be around to tell it,” Varric coaxed gently, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. “I’ll never be able to do it justice.” She could feel him shaking—afraid of losing her. 

“Oh you always do a better job—just don’t forget to tell them how charming I am,” Althea snorted tiredly, forcing herself to smile, trying to smooth his anxieties. She couldn’t help, but glance down, however, frightened, strangled gasp escaping her lips when she realized just how much blood she had lost. 

“Let them discover for themselves,” Fenris replied, gently cupping her face and drawing her gaze away from her wounds as Anders worked, tenderly coaxing her gaze up to meet his. “We’d be remiss without your quick wit, anyhow. Who else will make fun of Anders when he spills his tea?”

“Or make fun of Fenris when he’s holding the book upside down,” Anders shot back, mana flowing around his hands and into the wound in his stomach. 

That made her giggle—a sound that always made Fenris’s heart clench in his chest—but the expression on her face as she looked up at the elf echoed that of a scared little girl and the warrior felt his heart break in his chest. She leaned into his touch, nuzzling his palm, desperately wanting his comfort above all else and if these were to be her last few moments then he would give in for now, let himself take care of her like he wanted, even if he knew how irresponsible it was.

Anders worked as fast as he could, but Hawke was slowly fading, her eyes glazing over completely and fluttering shut. Varric and Fenris begged her to stay awake and while they could see her trying, they knew sleep was calling to her ever so softly—more sweetly than the way Fenris was stroking her cheek and quietly begging her to not give in. 

She let her eyes fall closed, just for a moment, silently promising him she would return soon. Fenris watched as she faded from consciousness, his heart heavy, gripping her other hand and intertwining his fingers with hers, hoping that she could feel that he was there. 


	2. Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My theme song for them is [Island](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IFNx68qfPY) by Seven Lions, thus where the chapter title comes from. Enjoy <3
> 
> Warnings: smut, crying, talking about feelings, more smut -Valk

Althea awoke in a start—two days later in her own bed, scrambling blindly as her brain willed her back to consciousness, her eyes still heavy, but her other senses rushing back to her, including the memories of the duel. She felt someone grab her hand, silently willing her to calm down, telling her she wasn’t in danger anymore and she felt something cold pressed to her lips, realizing it was a cup. She greedily drank the water that was offered to her, realizing she was painfully parched.

Once she finally was able to pull her eyes open, she looked around blearily, determining that it was late, finding candles burning around the room and a fire roaring in the fireplace. When she looked to her right, she was surprised to find Fenris sitting on the bed beside her, the Book of Shartan in his lap, his eyes scanning the page slowly. It made her smile—hoping she had taught him well enough to where he could try and read it on his own. He looked over at her, his green eyes glowing in the fire light, giving a small smile that made her heart skip a beat.

Hawke could tell he was tired—could see it in his eyes, but his posture visibly relaxed when he realized she was fully awake. The mage attempted to sit up, waiting for pain from her wounds to hit her, but she was met with only a minor amount of discomfort, quick to smooth a hand over where the Arishok had stabbed her under her loose nightshirt, finding that the wound had been replaced with a small scar.

“I don’t particularly like the mage, but he has more tenacity than I gave him credit for and I’m grateful,” Fenris murmured, grabbing a spare pillow and tucking it behind her back. “I’ve never seen him more determined.”

“Remind me to thank him later,” Althea hummed, rubbing her eyes and checking the rest of her body over, finding that most of the other cuts and bruises she had sustained were healed as well. The only other evidence of the duel was the scar that crossed her collarbone and shoulder that she had healed herself during the fight. Hawke knew she was lucky, both for her own healing abilities and the faith her friends had in her and in each other. “Is everyone else okay?”

“The city is in shambles, but it will recover, thanks to you,” Fenris replied, offering her the cup of water from earlier. “Isabela is thankful for her life. Anders has been watching you like a hawk—pun intended. Varric and Aveline have been in and out every few hours making sure you’re okay. I… I am grateful you’re finally awake.” His tone faltered and she found he was unable to meet her gaze, his eyes falling to the book in his lap again.

“Worried about me, were you,” Hawke teased gently, hesitantly reaching over to take his hand, surprised when he gave it a comforting squeeze rather than pulling away like she expected. There was a small pause and Althea already knew what he was about to say.

“Hawke, I—,” but she cut him off, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to—not this, not right now,” Althea murmured, reaching up with her free hand to gently cup his cheek. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

She felt him shaking under her touch, her heart skipping a beat when he nuzzled her palm, his green eyes falling closed. This was all she had wanted since he had left all those nights ago. She didn’t need the explanation he had promised—not anymore. What mattered was that he was beside her now—that he had been beside her when she was bleeding and terrified and he had held her hand even when the mana that flowed through her fingers caused him discomfort. But Fenris hadn’t recoiled then, and he wasn’t moving away now and Hawke was glad, afraid he’d slip through her fingertips again.

Now, she wanted so badly to kiss him, using the hand she had cupped on his cheek to pull him closer, resting her forehead against his, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. The elf reached up instead to drag his hands through Althea’s light blonde hair—now loose around her shoulders rather than braided, pulling her head down to press a kiss against her forehead. She couldn’t stop the shaky breath that escaped her lips after, her eyes fluttering closed, his lips on her skin sending an electrified chill across her skin.

“Indulge me one more time?”

She didn’t want to hurt him, but she had stared death in the face and she needed something to ground herself again. Flashes of the Arishok’s blade had muddied her unconscious state and while in reality she had escaped, all Althea saw was the blood he would’ve shed had she lost—blood that would have been on her hands, the blood of her _friends_.

“Anything for you,” Fenris breathed, seemingly sensing her distress, closing the book in his lap and setting it on her nightstand.

The elf was quick to pull her gently into his lap, her thighs straddling his hips, letting his hands wander slowly over her form, eyeing her mischievously before slipping her loose nightshirt off and casting it aside, finding she was bare underneath. He took his time admiring her in the candlelight and she felt almost bashful under his gaze despite the fact that he had seen her naked before. This was different—gentler than their last encounter which had been fueled by passion and desperation.

“Can I touch you,” Althea murmured, her blue-gray eyes meeting his green ones as her hands hovered just above his shoulders, afraid of agitating the lyrium in his markings. He gave a slight nod, his eyes fluttering closed as she trailed his hands over his broad shoulders and up his neck, biting back a groan when she trailed her fingers through his hair.

Althea coaxed him into a tender kiss, trailing her hands back down his neck, hesitating for a moment before dragging her fingertips down his chest and abs to tug at the hem of his tunic. He chuckled into the kiss, breaking it momentarily to oblige her request, their tongues tangling once his shirt was out of the way.

The mage shivered as Fenris’s calloused hands found their way across the smooth skin of her shoulder blades down to the small of her back, tracing the arch of her butt before taking a handful. She pushed her hips back into his touch, gasping when he spread her to the room, the air cold against her soaked pussy. Then, a noise downstairs caught her attention.

“The door,” Althea gasped, realizing she was fully exposed to anyone standing in the doorway, trying to slip off of the bed, but Fenris tightened his grip on her ass, her skin hot under his fingertips.

“Mmm let them walk in,” Fenris hummed, pulling Althea closer to him, moving one hand to grip her chin and turn her face back towards his. “Would it be bad of me to say it is because if Anders comes back, I want him to know _you’re mine_.” Those last two words were growled and it stirred something inside of Hawke.

Althea spared one last glance towards the door, which stood only _slightly_ ajar (which was fine, right?) before letting it go, any thoughts she was having being wiped from her mind when Fenris dragged a teasing finger through her dripping folds. She practically mewled in approval, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly, running one hand up his neck and through his hair again, finding it easier to hold on to.

“Look at me,” Fenris murmured, nosing her neck as he traced a gentle fingertip along her slit, dipping a finger, then two inside. He let out a low groan when she dug her nails into his scalp in response, her other hand going to rake her nails down the tan skin of his chest.

She found it difficult to hold his gaze, grinding against his hand as he made a ‘come here’ motion, hitting just the right spot inside her. She was almost surprised he had remembered, electricity coursing through her veins as he touched her, the fire in her core blazing hotter when his free hand came up to tease a nipple. She wanted all of him again, gasping when Fenris scissored his fingers inside of her, replacing the hand on her breast with his mouth, nearly making her knees give out.

“F-fuck.”

It’s the only word she could get out in response, her mind too clouded with pleasure—too distracted by everything about him to form a coherent thought. Hawke wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him as close to her as she could get, this time biting and sucking at his lips, making the elf smirk as he stole her lips again, his thumb going to her clit when he felt her clench around his fingers.

“O-Oh F-Fenris I-I-,” but she couldn’t finish her thought. The way her nipples brushed his chest and the way his fingers stroked her as he bit at her flushed skin became too much and she went crashing over the edge, clinging to her high as it somehow separated and tethered her to reality at the same time.

What she didn’t expect was the sob that passed her lips at her peak, the pleasure that coursed through her veins mingling with the anxieties that lurked in the back of her mind. Althea felt a weird sense of clarity as she rode her high, realizing just how close to dying she had come, tensing around Fenris’s fingers and clinging to him for dear life. She felt as if she was being torn between two existences—between the would-be timeline that haunted her dreams where her friend’s blood was on her hands and the streets of Kirkwall ran red because she had failed to defeat the Arishok. And the current timeline she was in, where everyone had escaped with their lives and the love of her life had his hands between her legs—it seemed too good to be true.

“I-I almost l-lost you,” she sobbed, not realizing she had begun crying, all of it becoming too much. “All of y-you.”

“We’re here,” Fenris murmured in reply, using the pad of his thumb to brush away her tears, pressing his forehead against hers. “ _I’m_ here.”

Althea cried, her eyes falling closed as her tears washed away the anxiety that had overtaken her body. Fenris spoke to her quietly, gently coaxing her to breathe and reminding her that everything was okay, dragging a gentle hand through her hair. She struggled to catch her breath, holding on to him far too tightly, but she was still afraid of losing him like she had lost Bethany and her mother—afraid of losing him to her own recklessness and lack of foresight.

She cried until she had no tears left, her breathing still shaky when she fell silent again. Fenris tenderly wiped her tear-stained cheeks with his palms, smiling sadly at her when she opened her stormy blue-gray eyes again to look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

The elf made a face—a look of disbelief breaking his normally stoic countenance, silently telling her she had nothing to apologize for. She felt guilty—burdening him with her emotions, but he _was_ still holding her after she had broken down in his arms.

“I… I should be the one that is sorry,” Fenris countered, trailing a hand through the long strands of Althea’s hair, his other hand tracing the gentle curve of her jaw down to her chin. “I shouldn’t have put you in the position that I did—offering that duel without consulting you first. It was foolish.” Hawke shook her head, moving to drag a hand under each of her eyes, sniffling, realizing she probably looked like a disheveled mess.

“It was the best idea I heard. I will say I’m a little flattered you believed in my skill enough to suggest it.” Her tone was playful, lightening the atmosphere in the room a bit, even if her voice was still raw from crying.

“I believed— _believe_ in you, Hawke,” Fenris replied almost bashfully, breaking his gaze from hers. “Not just in your skill— _all_ of you.”

Hawke sat silently for a moment, regarding the elf with some surprise, her expression softening when she realized he was serious. Then, she smiled.   
“Are you sure you’re not just flattering me because I’m sitting naked on top of you,” she shot back playfully, letting out a light laugh when the elf balked at her comment.

“Hawke I didn’t-,” but she interrupted him, waving her hands dismissively, stopping him mid-sentence.

“Relax, Fenris. I’m kidding,” she giggled, reaching down to intertwine the fingers on one hand with his, her other hand coming up to cup his cheek gently. “Thank you."

“For?”

“Being here—believing in me, taking care of me,” she replied, sitting forward to press a kiss to his forehead, feeling him shiver under her touch. “In more ways than one.” That made Fenris chuckle.

“We may not see eye to eye on some things, but Kirkwall does not deserve you,” the elf murmured, trailing his hands down her sides and over her hips before resting at her thighs. “ Neither do I.”

Althea just shook her head in response—wanting to explain how much he meant to her, but not trusting her voice. Instead, she settled on showing him, leaning back in to press her lips against his, both of them falling into an easy rhythm as their tongues tangled again.

Hawke let her hands wander, gently tracing the outlines of his pecs before descending further, raking her nails along his muscular abdomen before toying with the waistband of his trousers.

“Hawke—you don’t have to,” the elf murmured cautiously, grabbing her wrist, looking up at her.

“And if I want to?” Her blue-gray eyes shone brightly in the firelight, clearer than they had been in ages, something between determination and adoration reflected deep inside of them.

There was a small pause, but eventually Fenris released her wrist, choosing to believe her, letting her slip her hand inside and she smiled when the warrior pressed himself into her hand, his half-hard cock warm against her palm. The mage wrapped her hand around him, suppressing a smirk when he groaned in approval, biting at her bottom lip when she started stroking him slowly.

Althea was careful to keep her strokes slow and even, smiling when he growled in frustration, grabbing her hips and pulling her against him, his chest pressed against hers. She mewled in surprise, gasping when his teeth found the sensitive skin of her neck, her hand losing it’s rhythm momentarily before picking it back up again, faster this time, willing to acquiesce to the elf’s silent demands.

“K-kaffas,” Fenris hissed against her skin, making a chill run down her spine as he bit down every so gently on her nipple, causing her to mewl and squirm.

 She could feel the dampness coating the apex of her thighs again and she pulled Fenris’s cock out of his trousers, positioning herself above him, unable to wait any longer. The elf grabbed her hips firmly, guiding her down onto his cock, both of them groaning in unison as he filled her completely. She clenched around him, always loving how full he made her feel, dragging her nails down his chest again hard enough to leave red streaks behind. 

“I didn’t think you could feel any more heavenly…” but the elf trailed off, unable to form a coherent thought, his grip on Althea’s hips tightening. 

Humming in approval, she started to move, slowly at first in order to adjust to his size, but eventually picking up her pace, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. Hawke’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling as he slid in and out of her pussy leisurely, prompting her to locked one arm around his neck to maintain her balance, her other unoccupied hand going to trace the lyrium markings on his neck down to his muscular chest. She let the slightest amount of mana flow into her fingertips, opening her eyes and meeting his lidded gaze so she could detect any kind of discomfort.

Fenris had told her that they hurt—it broke her heart and she had endeavored to find ways to ease his pain. It had taken time and patience last time for him to trust her and let her try to help him. She hadn’t wanted to push his boundaries again earlier—that’s why she had asked if she could touch him earlier; she didn’t know if he still trusted her and it seems that he did—it made her heart flutter in her chest. They had found that the slightest hint of mana seemed to dull the pain, adding an almost euphoric element to the tingling of his skin. Any more than that—he became scared, still fearful of magic, but her touch was always soft and he had come to respect that magic that Althea wielded, letting her take care of him. 

“Althea...,” Fenris murmured, his breathing becoming shaky, his nails digging into the sensitive skin of her hips as his eyes fell closed, the magic flowed through his markings. The way her name left his lips made her shiver. 

“Breathe,” she whispered in response, careful to control how much mana she was using, trailing a finger down the lines that decorated his tan skin as she slowly rode his cock. “I’m here.” 

She echoed his earlier words, feeling him relax again under her touch, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling the lyrium in his markings practically vibrate under his skin. She wanted so badly to ease his pain and this seemed to be the best way, speaking to him softly as she moved, whimpering in surprise when the elf planted his feet on the bed and thrust up into her, his cock hitting the right spot in side of her, the fire in her core flaring.

“F-fuck  _ Fenris _ ,” Althea gasped, whimpering again when the warrior moved a hand to her clit, rubbing gentle circles around it with his thumb. 

He could sense the growing desperation in her voice, unable to keep from whimpering himself when she spread her palm flat out in the center of his chest, channeling more mana into his body. She couldn’t hide her smirk when his head fell back, his breathing becoming erratic as his cock twitched inside of her, his hips meeting hers as she all, but bounced on top of him now. She let out a low moan at the feeling, her hips jerking as he stroked her clit, her arm tightening around his shoulders to keep her from collapsing under his ministrations. The mage dug her face into his neck, unable to stop the string of moans and mewls that were falling from her lips now, feeling herself racing towards her impending climax. 

“H-Hawke,” Fenris stuttered, his voice tight as his thrusts became uneven, his resolve slowly crumbling as he raced towards his orgasm as well. It was a warning and all she could do was nod, digging her nails into his skin as she tensed around him, pleasure consuming her body as the tension in her core snapped. 

Althea came with a cry of his name, clinging to him desperately, her mind clear this time as she hit her peak, feeling him spill inside of her seconds later, unable to handle the way she was squeezing around him. They both came down in silence, Althea dismissing the magic at her fingertips, hoping she had helped stay his pain and provide him with some relief, even if only for a brief moment. It’s the least she could do for him after he had comforted her. 

“Are you okay,” Hawke asked, afraid it had been too much considering the elf had yet to move. She sat up slowly, her tired, but satisfied muscles crying at her to lie still. She chose to ignore them, reaching up intent on cupping Fenris’s face, but hesitating. 

She relaxed when the warrior smiled softly and nodded, looking up at her, the edges of his normally stoic eyes having softened. She wanted to say it—those three little words and tell him what she meant to him, but she felt it better to just lean forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Fenris’s lips, which he returned tenderly. 

“Are you two done?” A familiar voice from the other side of the door made them jump and Althea quickly scrambled for her shirt from earlier, throwing it on, a blush creeping up over her face. 

Fenris just laughed, giving Hawke an almost gratified look, moving to dress himself when she slid off of him back onto the bed. 

“Anders… would you like some tea?” Hawke called, trying to mask the embarrassment in her voice. 

“Oh I  _ demand _ tea. I’ve been waiting out here for 10 minutes.”

Fenris couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped at the mortified look that spread across Althea’s face. She shot him a look, but she couldn’t stop the satiated smile that graced her lips when their gazes met. She nodded towards the door, dismissing him, and he nodded, moving to press another kiss to her forehead before heading out the door. 

Watching him walk away made her heart flutter, something between adoration and fear settling in her chest. She thought she had made peace with him practically fleeing last time, but it seems it wasn’t quite settled. She shook the thought, deciding to mull over it later, searching for acceptable clothing before meeting Anders in her loft, giving the mage a sheepish look. 

“I take it your wounds have healed just fine?”

“What gave that away?”


End file.
